


Flights of Angels

by Mary_West



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels, Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19304962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_West/pseuds/Mary_West
Summary: When Aziraphale keeps his promise to a stranger.





	Flights of Angels

"Oh, that was sweet." Mrs Agatha Jones patted Kimberley's hand, her own skin almost transparent and with a definite shade of blue starting to creep through it. "How kind of Aziraphale to arrange that." She sat back in her chair as Kimberley quickly slipped the phone back into her pocket, and turned off the television. The tears slipping down Kimberley's face were silent, but one fell on Mrs Jones' arm and caught her attention.

"Why are you sad, child?"

"I'm not sure." Kimberley wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then took a tissue to do a better job. "I don't think I'm so much sad as ... oh, all the feelings!"

"Then why don't you go and put the kettle on, make us both a nice cup of tea." Mrs Jones smoothed the crocheted blanket across her knees. "And put a few of the good biscuits on the tray. We're going to have visitors soon."

Kimberley gently squeezed Mrs Jones' hand, then slipped out, cursing the door to the nursing home room as she did. It would stick from time to time, and now seemed to be one of those days. She made a mental note to try getting some sandpaper for the bottom of it next week.

The kettle was almost boiled, and the two teacups on the tray, when what her charge had said sank in properly. The young lass slipped back down the corridor quickly to find out what Mrs Jones meant by "visitors". But as she approached the door to the room, she heard voices.

"Are you here already? Goodness."

"Only if you're ready to go, Agatha." It was a male voice, she thought, high but not sounding female at all. 

"Well after what you told Kimberley, I thought I had better not keep you waiting." Mrs Jones' voice was more weary than Kimberley had ever heard it.

She tried to push the door open, but it was stuck again, firmly this time. She pushed hard, knowing Mrs Jones wouldn't be able to get up and help her. But as she pushed, she saw a sliver of incredibly bright light shining under the door from the room inside - bright and golden and somehow clear and powerful. 

Mrs Jones' voice became fainter, as if she were moving away. "Such beautiful singing. Is that really for me?"

"With all our love, Agatha." The other voice, belonging to no-one Kimberley knew, was also fading, as was the light. Kimberley gave one last hard push, and felt the door finally give.

There was a wash of light in the room, almost as if it was shining out from a canopy of feathered wings made of love and joy and peace. Then it faded, leaving only the sterile nursing home room with its silent occupant.

Mrs Jones wouldn't need her cup of tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this tweet by Michael Sheen, that broke my heart and a thousand others:
> 
> https://twitter.com/michaelsheen/status/1139299533270241280
> 
> From: Kimberley  
> @RedHeadedHobbit  
> Jun 13
> 
> Watching #GoodOmens with 1 of my Dementia residents.She Is End of Life. She is hoping #Aziraphale is the Angel who will greet her,if not she says #Crowley will do. Making a old lady very happy in her last few days. 
> 
> From: michael sheen  
> Verified account @michaelsheen
> 
> Then Aziraphale it shall be. And may flights of angels sing her to her rest. Please tell her she is so loved. So, so loved.


End file.
